Deja Vu
by j3nnee
Summary: While heading out on FBI business with Peter, Neal has a flash back. Season 1 spoilers, whumpage eventually and lots of angst.
1. Chapter 1

**Deja Vu**

Neal hid under the huge duvet in his rooms, head tucked underneath as he ignored the buzzing of his cell. Finally, when he thought he couldn't bare it anymore, he reached out from underneath the warm blanket and felt around for the cell. He pulled it beneath and there was a beeping as he answering.

"This better be good." He muttered tiredly, his voice muffled from the blanket. After a few minutes there was a beep as he hung up the phone and blindly reached out and pushed the phone back onto the nightstand. Soon after was the sound of soft snoring and Neal was back to sleep.

**()()()**

Neal yawned, sitting on the small stone wall outside of June's in the early morning with a small silver thermos in his hands and an overnight bag sitting on the ground beside him. He was dressed in his usual nice Devor style suit, a dark blue number with a light pink button up underneath and a matching blue tie. He perked up when he heard the honk of a car and saw a dark blue sedan pull up. It was Peter.

Neal stood up, brushing off his suit and lifted his bag as he walked over to the car and pulled the back door open. He peered inside to see Peter looking up at him just as sleepily. He handed the thermos over seeing a bright light pop in the agent's eyes as he slipped inside and dropped the bag in the back seat.

Jones peered from the front, his face just as sleepy as the rest of them.

"I'll be your driver for today, gentlemen." Jones' voice was sarcastic, the agent stifling a yawn before Peter handed him a cup of coffee. He smiled.

"Hey Neal, I guess you're ready for this assignment? Hughes only told me late last night and I didn't get a chance to call you till I'd gotten all the details. Sorry for the change in plans." Peter sipped at his coffee, inhaling the aroma and starting to almost look alert. Neal grinned sleepily, stretching ever so slightly as he eased back in the seat.

"I'm ok. It was a bit early to call but I'm looking forward to a case outside the city. Should prove fun. What are the details?" Neal turned his blue eyes to Peter who passed him a folder, holding one of his own and opening his to a specified page. Neal did the same.

"Those bank robberies we've had recently. The owner of the branches is in Philadelphia and requested a meeting with us today. He wants to discuss the details of keeping his other branches safe. He heard about our CI and wanted to meet you. Hughes approved." Peter stifled a yawn, leaning back a bit in the seat as he sipped at the coffee again. Neal read the file curious why the bank owner would want to meet him.

The drive was relatively short, ending at a small airport. Neal peered outside in surprise and then at Peter.

"Yeah, we're flying. The bank owner sent his own personal jet for us. Hughes approved since it saves on some of our expenses." Peter grinned slightly, his eyes looking at the jet. Jones looked a bit envious.

"Wish I was going along. Never been on a leer jet before." He sighed slightly, parking the car near the gate. Peter took off his seat-belt and grabbed his bag, opening the door. Neal did the same, walking around to meet the agent who was leaning on open window of the driver's side door and talking to Jones.

"We're only going to be up there till tomorrow afternoon so I'll call before we head back. Anything I can get you while I'm there." Peter's tone was facetious on the last bit, Jones grinning.

"A Philly cheese steak?" Jones saw Peter roll his eyes and nod as he stood and motioned for Neal to follow. They pulled the gate open and walked out onto the tarmac, the leer jet sitting in the distance humming. Peter didn't pause, continuing to walk. He turned to ask Neal something and stopped when he found the CI missing. He looked back to see Neal still standing near the gate, face pale. Peter wasn't sure what to think, continuing to watch his partner staring blankly at the plane before turning and running back towards the entrance. Peter ran after the younger man, unsure what was going on. He caught up with the con, the young man vomiting in a nearby trashcan. Peter patted him on the back gently, holding him up as best he could.

"Neal... what's the matter? Neal?" Peter waited a moment till Neal had finished retching, collapsing to the ground by the trashcan and looking terrified. Peter crouched beside his friend, trying to get the young man's attention but Neal's eyes stared blankly ahead as if at some horrible memory. Then he realized what was up, putting an arm around Neal and holding him, the young man shaking, trembling ever so slightly.

"I'm sorry. I should have thought about that." He continued to hold his friend till Neal pushed him away and stood up shakily. Neal's eyes were watery, his face blotchy as he wiped it on his sleeve and looked around as if dazed.

"I could see her, Peter. I thought I saw her on that plane. I couldn't get on knowing what happened." He was shaking, his voice barely audible. Peter nodded, putting an arm around the young man and leading him towards the front of the small airport, his cell pulled out in his other hand.

"Jones. No, we didn't get on the plane... something came up. Need you to come pick us up. Thanks."

**()()()**

Peter had Jones dropped them off at his house, Elizabeth surprised when she arrived home a few hours later to find Peter resting on the sofa, the TV on in the background. She nudged him awake, the agent looking up tiredly.

"Hey honey. I meant to call but things happened." He wiped at his eyes and sat up, hugging her as she sat beside him on the sofa.

"So you didn't go to Philadelphia? What's wrong?" She put a hand to his forehead but he smiled slightly and shook his head.

"I'm fine. Neal..." He didn't finish, running a hand through his hair worriedly.

"Neal? What happened to him? He was going with you wasn't he?" She was looking at him with a concerned look, his brown eyes looking slightly upwards. She looked in that direction where the stairs led to their second floor and realized what was going on.

"He's in the guest room? What happened?" She was holding his hand in hers, Peter looking unsure what to say.

"The plane. It looked like the one... well we were supposed to fly up there and he didn't know. I didn't think it was a big issue so I hadn't mentioned it. He had a flashback to that day, running back to the gate and threw up. I had to call Jones back to pick us up. Hughes gave us the rest of the day off but now the client is coming here tomorrow. I don't know if he'll be ready for that meeting. I may have to meet the man alone." Peter looked worried, his manner that of a big brother. El hugged him close and kissed him, her hand gently massaging his neck.

"Poor, Neal. If you want I can stay home tomorrow. I don't have any clients coming in. Most of my work load right now I can do from home." She curled up next to him, her head nestled against his shoulder, Peter hugging her.

"That might not be a bad idea but I don't know what Hughes will say. He wants Neal to be at that meeting and the client asked to specifically meet with him. He said he had heard good things about our CI." Peter kissed his wife on the forehead, standing up with her as he turned off the TV.

"I can make some dinner if you're hungry. When was the last time you ate?" El's glance went up to the stairs, Peter understanding she was including Neal in that query. He shrugged.

"He's been resting since we got back. I haven't heard a peep and then I fell asleep I guess about an hour ago. I kept thinking he'd feel better and we'd go out but he never did come down. Maybe I should go check up on him..." He stretched and yawned slightly, kissing his wife one more time as she disappeared into the kitchen and he walked upstairs.

Peter knocked on the door lightly. He didn't hear a reply, opening the door quietly and peeking inside. He saw the sheets and blankets on the bed strewn aside but no Neal. He looked around but there was no sign of his partner. Peter blinked, curious where the young man had vanished to when someone touched him on the shoulder and he started, turning.

"Looking for something, Peter?" Neal's voice was slightly facetious but still sounded a bit sleepy. Peter shook his head.

"El's home. She's getting ready to make dinner." He smiled as much as he could under the circumstances. He was still worried about the young man's reaction earlier but the old Neal seemed to have returned. He watched Neal nod at him as he moved around the agent and entered the guest room again.

"Sure. Just let me change." Neal was in his silk robe, the young man's hair slightly damp. He must have been taking a shower. Peter nodded, moving outside the room and towards his own bedroom.

"Sounds like a plan. See you downstairs." Peter saw Neal nod with his usual smile planted firmly on his face. He walked down the hall trying to figure out if the young man was truly feeling better or not when he shrugged just glad Neal was acting like himself again. He wasn't going to push him. Peter closed the bedroom door and started to change from his sweats and tee to jeans and a beige polo shirt. He slipped on some white tube socks and tan top-siders before he exited the room and entered the bathroom. He ran the tap and washed his face before combing his hair and heading downstairs. Neal was already there when he arrived, the young man helping El set the table.

"How can I help?" Peter said as he walked over. Neal shrugged.

"Nearly done. Uhm... forgot napkins." Neal started for the kitchen to get those but Peter held up a hand and went instead. He pushed the door open and looked inside to see El pulling a small roast from the oven. She smiled as he entered.

"I forgot napkins. Meant to bring some out but they're on the counter if you want to take them out for me." She smiled sweetly, walking over and whispering.

"_He looks ok to me._" She squeezed his arm gently before getting back to the food. Peter nodded, walking over to grab the napkins.

**()()()**

Dinner was good. Neal seemed his usual charming self, his humor and appetite strong. There was no sign of his earlier attack and Peter guessed whatever had caused him to react at the airport had passed. Neal helped clean up despite El's insistence he go sit with Peter and drink coffee. Once they were all sitting down, they sat in the den and talked till El gave a little yawn. Neal excused himself a moment, disappearing upstairs as Peter watched curiously. A few minutes later, Neal was downstairs with his bag and jacket, hat firmly on his head.

"Thanks for the dinner, El and thanks for everything Peter. I'm going to go home. See you in the morning for work." Neal sounded so much like himself but Peter detected a hint of tension, the young man trying too hard to act normal. He didn't want to say anything but he could see El's look.

"Neal, you're welcomed to stay the night. You're already here." El stood up and walked over to him, gently squeezing his arm. Neal blushed slightly, his facade breaking ever so slightly. Peter could see the hidden terror still there, Neal's face paling a bit.

"I don't want to... impose." He wouldn't look at El, his eyes averted as he fumbled with the strap of his overnight bag. Peter stood up and walked over to stand beside El, his face smiling as he hugged his wife.

"It would be easier if you're here, Neal. We could leave for that meeting together. What do you say?" Peter kept smiling, Neal finally nodding in defeat.

"I guess if you're going to gang up on me, I have no choice." His tone was joking but Peter detected a hint of discomfort beneath. Neal hid behind his usual charming smile and headed to the kitchen when El offered to make him some tea. Peter took the forgotten overnight bag and went upstairs, depositing it in the guest room again. He noticed the bed had been made and the room back to what it was before Neal had arrived. It was as if he had tried to erase being at the Burke's, or a habit he'd picked up when he as on the run. It told Peter more than he needed to know about his friend's mental state at this moment. Maybe Hughes should postpone that meeting tomorrow if only by one day.

Peter went back downstairs after a moment, Neal and El sitting at the sofa chatting over tea and sounding normal again. Peter smiled at the scene but he wondered how long it would last.


	2. Chapter 2

**(Chapter 2)**

The next morning Peter woke up to the sound of his wife laughing. She sounded rather cheerful as he pulled on his robe and curiously made his way downstairs. He could hear El shushing someone afraid they would wake Peter up.

"Morning, honey." Elizabeth walked over as Peter entered the kitchen, hugging him and planting a kiss on his lips. He looked over at who she had been giggling with. Neal was at the stove top flipping pancakes like he was some kind of culinary chef showing off. The agent grinned sleepily.

"Ah, pancakes. What's the occasion?" Peter walked over to the sink, reached up into the cabinet and grabbed a glass, filling it with water as he leaned on the edge of the counter and watched his partner showing off. Neal was smiling, looking a lot more himself than he had yesterday. Maybe he would be ok for the meeting today. Peter still wanted to talk to Hughes about it just in case Neal was still antsy.

"No reason, Peter. I just wanted to do something nice." Neal's voice was happy enough but Peter still detected a hint of something else there. The young man seemed to notice Peter's gaze, turning his smile on higher like a flame, distracting him from anything he might think he saw.

"Did you put chocolate chips in those? El... you told him didn't you?" Peter looked absolutely fascinated if not happy for the change in breakfast. He normally just had some cereal or a couple of eggs but chocolate chip pancakes... Neal must really be trying to butter him up. He grinned to himself, walking over to the coffee maker and pouring himself a cup. He made a motion to Neal if he wanted some and the young man nodded. Peter walked the cup over to Neal who took it with his free hand and took a long sip.

"I'll go set the table while you boys slave over the stove." El winked at them both as she said that, hugging Neal but kissing her husband as she left the kitchen. They both glanced after her, Peter noticing Neal relaxing some as if he knew he could hide his feelings from El but not Peter.

"It's ok. I can postpone that meeting today if you like. Hughes will arrange it after yesterday. I want you at the top of your game." He patted Neal on the back but felt a tension there, Neal shaking his head.

"I'm alright, Peter. I... I'm alright." Neal's voice wasn't very convincing but he finished making the last of the pancakes, flipping it professionally onto the platter as he turned off the stove top, neatly removed the pans and walked over to the sink to wash his hands. He wiped them quickly on the apron he'd borrowed and removed it, hanging it back over the pantry door where El usually kept it. He didn't look at Peter the whole time he did this till he grabbed up the plate and put on his smile again. He was doing this for El if nobody else. Peter nodded in defeat, grabbing up the coffee pot, emptying it into another ewer and then following the young man out into the dining room.

**()()()**

The drive to the FBI offices was quiet. Neal didn't fiddle with the radio or GPS and he was less than talkative for once. He kept his nose stuck in the case file as he read it quietly, something Peter liked but found oddly disturbing under the circumstances. Still, he let Neal be, poking the young man when they had parked. Neal nodded sleepily, pushing his hat over his eyes a bit and pulling his shades on when they exited. They went up the elevator to their floor and stepped out into the lobby, pushing open the glass door and entering the offices proper. They walked across, Neal only stopping briefly at his desk near the door to drop off his jacket and hat before he followed Peter upstairs to his office.

They sat there for a few minutes going over the case file, Neal all ears and behaving which unsettled Peter for once but he didn't let on seeing as this was an important case. About twenty minutes into their discussion there was a knock on the office door as Hughes peeked in.

"The bank representative is here to see you two. Ready?" Reese sounded a bit nervous despite his casually gruff tone. Peter looked at Neal who nodded with his usual smile, Peter reflecting the same back. He hoped Neal was over whatever happened yesterday but now it was too late to turn back.

They followed Hughes out of the office and down the stairs to the conference room below. A well dressed man in his early 40s, distinguished looking with a moustache, hair dark and cropped short in a professional manner smiled at them as they walked in. The man had light brown eyes that matched his suit. He stood up, hand held out as Hughes, Peter and then Neal approached. It was odd as Peter noticed a slight hesitation on Neal's part, shaking the man's hand but looking as if he'd seen a ghost before his facade covered it up. Nobody seemed to have noticed except Peter, so he would have to ask later what was wrong but for now he wanted to see this meeting through.

"Please everyone, sit. Mr. Hartwell wanted to discuss bank security with us while he was in town. He came to us since we weren't able to go up there. I apologize for the delay, Mr. Hartwell. Shall we begin?" Hughes was official, Hartwell nodding and he gave Neal a glance and then turned his attention to Peter and Hughes.

"My boss, Mr. Marin wanted to talk to Mr. Caffrey personally but is unable to leave the offices at this time so he sent me. I hope you're feeling better. He's heard good things about your expertise in solving security issues as well as your uncanny ability to sniff out forgeries. We're glad to have such a distinguished consultant on our case. Agent Hughes, thank you for giving our case your most urgent attention." Hartwell turned his attention back to Reese who was smiling but looking over at Peter.

"My agents have been the ones doing all the work with our consultant. I just oversee and monitor. If you have any questions, Agent Burke and Caffrey are the men to talk to at the moment." Peter knew he was just being modest since Hughes liked to remain behind the scenes but always kept up to date on everything. That's what Peter liked about his boss. He watched Hartwell nod, again the look at Neal before he turned it towards Peter.

"So what information do you have on these robberies from the branches that have been stolen from, Agent Burke. I heard you personally visited every branch. I'm impressed." Hartwell's tone was professional but he sensed a slight hint of condescension in it which confused him and made him suspicious. He saw Neal listening intently, the CI having said nothing yet which was unusual for him. Even Hughes seemed to have noticed but said nothing in front of their client.

"They were all inside jobs from what my team has pieced together so far. No signs of breaking or entering and the cameras were off when the incident happened which was during a scheduled maintenance of the system which are randomly set up and would only be known by a insider. I'm thinking a current employee or past employee would have to be the likely culprit. Any past or current employees you know of that may have a grudge against your company?" Peter kept his tone professional, manner somewhat bland as he tried to figure out what was between Hartwell and Neal.

Hartwell shook his head, that professional smile glued to his face.

"No. We've investigated according to what your team and our own security people have pieced together and nobody fits the description. Mr. Marin treats his employees well so why anyone would want to hurt the company is beyond our comprehension. What do you think, Mr. Caffrey?" Hartwell had turned the conversion over to Neal who had been watching and feeling out the man for the past 30 minutes. He didn't so much as blink, his fingers in a steeple pattern as he remained unreadable, blue eyes flashing slightly at the bank rep.

"I would think this was higher up than someone who was just a mere employee. Only someone high enough in the chain would know about the scheduled maintenance for the cameras." Neal left it simple, his expression still unreadable but for a slight flicker of something in his eyes towards Hartwell. Peter watched the exchange, the meeting going on for a few minutes more before they finished. Hughes excused himself when he was called by Jones for a call, Peter waiting for Neal. He saw a look between his partner and the client which made him think they needed a moment alone.

"I was going to get some coffee. Did you want some Mr. Hartwell?" He watched the man shake his head with that professional smile plastered in place, Neal shaking his head as well. Peter nodded as he left, leaving a pen on the table and walking out.

**()()()**

Once Peter left the meeting room, Neal moved back ever so slightly and closed the door again. He saw Hartwell continue to sit there with that false smile on his face, a hint of amusement in the man's body language.

"Neal Caffrey... such a nice surprise to see you again. I see you're doing well." Hartwell's voice was suddenly a bit less '_nice_' as he spoke openly towards the ex-con. Neal stiffened ever so slightly, standing and leaning back on the door frame.

"I could say the same back. Why are you here? What game are you playing, Max?" Neal's expression had turned dark as he watched the other man. He wasn't happy to see the bank rep but for reasons other than the case. The other man clucked his tongue.

"I guess we can't discuss this here. Bugs and all but meet me somewhere... give me a location and we can talk about why I'm here. Talk about old times." The man grinned brightly, Neal looking less than happy.

"Fine."

**()()()**

Peter walked in after a few minutes, his blazer still draped on the chair in the conference room. He picked up the pen, pushing it into his pocket and exiting. He saw Neal at his desk in the lobby looking somewhat sullen. Whatever he and Hartwell had discussed, Neal wasn't happy about it. He wondered if maybe the two had crossed in the past during some kind of robbery. How else would they know each other?

The agent slipped into his office, closed the door and popped the pen out. He opened it up revealing a usb connection and connected it to the PC. He listened as audio came up. His eyebrows rose as he heard what was said.

**()()()**

Neal was well behaved for the rest of the day, Peter figuring it had something to do with Hartwell if not his reaction the day before. Now that he had heard their conversation he was wondering if he should confront Neal. Peter felt badly for spying but he had no other means of confirming what he had thought about Hartwell. Jones came in for a conference on a case file, distracting Peter from talking to Neal.

When the end of the day came around, Neal stood and pulled his jacket on, hat pushed onto his head. He excused himself early and took a taxi home. Peter understood why but he followed behind in the Taurus watching the younger man as he went home, entered June's briefly before exiting again and walking to the park. Peter followed on foot. Out of sight he saw Neal sit at his usual spot in the park another figure showing up not too long after. It was Hartwell.

Peter watched the two men chatting, Neal looking upset during the conversation. He kept wishing he had bugged Neal discreetly having no way to know what was being said beyond body language which was obvious on Neal but not so obvious on Hartwell. Peter was so intent on reading lips and figuring out what was going on he didn't hear the footsteps creeping up behind him. It was too late when he heard the snap of a branch and something like a silencer and a sting in his neck. Someone grasped a hand around his arms and mouth keeping his strangled cry from traveling. The person holding him grabbed his cuffs and pulled his wrists back, securing his arms behind him. Peter started to feel his consciousness fade, his body relaxing as whatever he'd been shot with passed into his system. He was just able to see the two men still chatting, vision blurring ever so slightly. He thought he saw Neal looking at him with wide eyes before he passed out.

**()()()**

Neal sat in the park awaiting his meeting with Hartwell, his manner less than excited. He glanced up as a figure sat beside him.

"Nice area. I guess it's within your 2 mile radius?" Hartwell's voice was smug as he fiddled with a cigarette and lighter. Neal glanced at the man with anything but a happy expression.

"Just tell me what you want and leave. I'm not here to socialize." Neal didn't hide his anger, blue eyes flashing at the man. Hartwell continued to smile smugly.

"So much anger. It was necessary when you decided to go your own way. It was purely business. You understand, right?" Hartwell grinned evilly.

"I was almost caught because your man screwed up the operation and left me as a casualty. Max, what are you doing here? If you're the one behind the robberies, I'm turning you in. Nothing personal." Neal grinned this time, anger in his tone. He saw Hartwell frown for the first time and flick some ash off the tip of his cig before he pushed it to his lips again.

"Still angry. I figured you would be but I suggest you reconsider your position. I have an offer for you that I think you won't be able to ignore." Hartwell saw Neal stand and shake his head.

"I'm done listening to anything you have to say, Max. I have a job to do and you're obviously the brains behind these '_robberies_.' I think Peter and Hughes would be interested in hearing what was said." Neal made to go when he heard a clucking of the man's tongue again.

"I wouldn't go just yet, Neal. I told you, this offer is one you can't ignore." Hartwell made a motion, and Neal turned to see a figure in the bushes some yards away. They were holding Peter at gun point, the agent looking drugged. His blue eyes widened turning back to Hartwell, his manner tense.

"Max, what are you doing? This isn't a game!" Neal wasn't holding back, his facade breaking as he worried about Peter's well being. Hartwell grinned.

"Of course it's a game. So, are you playing? The agent's life is in your hands, Neal."


	3. Chapter 3

**(Chapter 3)**

Neal watched the goon in the bushes dragging Peter out of sight, his fear growing as he turned back to Hartwell. He nodded to the man reluctantly, trying to find a way out of this without hurting Peter. Hartwell smiled brightly.

"You were always obedient with the right push. So... I have a job for you. Something my men can't do but when I heard about your involvement with this case, I couldn't resist including your expertise." Hartwell had motioned Neal to sit down again, the young man doing so with an unhappy glare.

"One of Mr. Marin's branches here in the city has something of great value that has nothing to do with the banks finances. I worked for him to find it and now that I know where it is, I want it but it's a bit tricky. I know you're good with tricky, Caffrey. And it's art. My men even if they knew how to break in would just screw this up. You though, have a delicate touch and I know the piece will be unharmed. Bring it to me, and I'll free your friend." Hartwell smiled that condescending grin, Neal wanting to tear it right off his face but unable to show his rage at what was going on while Peter was in danger. He nodded, answering through clenched teeth.

"Fine Max, but know this... if you harm a hair on Peter's head, you'll regret it!" Neal's voice was a growl, an uncharacteristic sound that made the other man blink before that facade returned.

"This coming from one of the most non-violent people I know. I very much doubt you'll do much of..." Hartwell didn't finish his sentence as Neal grabbed him by the lapels and pulled him up roughly. His blue eyes were glittering with impotent rage as he let loose his normally unspent anger.

"I'm not joking, Max! I'll hunt you down if it's the last thing I do!" Neal had his face as close to the man's as he could, face full of anger before he pulled back and dropped his hold. Hartwell almost looked surprised but it was again hidden behind that smug facade as he straightened himself up and nodded.

"Understood. As long as we're being honest, know that if you screw up this robbery, your friend is dead. It will be on your hands. You'll have to tell his grieving widow why her husband died. Will your friendship with her last such a blow and how will your FBI colleagues take the death of your keeper? I think prison will be harder with everyone knowing you're a snitch. I'll be in touch." Hartwell continued to grin, turning towards those bushes where Neal had last seen Peter and walked away.

**()()()**

Neal sat on the bench a while longer after Hartwell left, his mind deep in dark thoughts. Maybe it was the memory of what the visit to the airport the day before had represented or something else but his anger over Kate's death returned full force. His fears and terror overwhelmed him now that he had Peter's life in his hands. He was not a violent man and he rarely gave in to his anger but Peter had been nothing but kind to him and helped him through a rough time and now this. He couldn't let the agent be hurt. He didn't want to lose what he had with the Burkes, Elizabeth always there to cheer him on and be the voice of reason.

After a long and arduous heart to heart with himself, Neal finally rose and walked back to June's. It was now after 7 and he found Mozzie and June laughing and drinking wine in the dining room. Neal wanted to sneak by but he knew it wasn't possible so he walked towards them, placing his hat on the banister as he passed and peered inside.

"And the funny part is that... Hey Neal. Where have you been?" Mozzie sounded as if he had been telling a joke to June who was all smiles as she glanced up at Neal. She offered him a glass of wine to which he nodded and sat down with them. June rose and disappeared into the kitchen a moment coming back with an extra goblet. Mozzie looked a bit buzzed which made Neal think he'd been waiting for him for a while but then he liked talking to June as much as he liked visiting with Neal.

"I need to take care of some things for tomorrow, you can take the bottle up with you Neal." She seemed to sense he had things to talk about, giving him a little squeeze before waving to Mozz and disappearing around the corner. Neal didn't sigh or relax, he just looked at the glass of wine and swished it without really looking at it. Mozz grabbed his hand after a moment and stopped him.

"Neal, you're making me dizzy. If some thing's the matter, let's go upstairs and discuss it. You're killing my buzz." Mozz was definitely near the sloshed point, his voice a bit less paranoid than usual which was a clear sign that if he was relaxed he had to be drunk. Neal nodded, taking the glass in hand as he turned without waiting for his friend and headed for the stairs. Mozz quickly followed with the bottle in his arms and his glass in hand.

"Neal, June said you came home after work and quickly disappeared. Something going on I need to know about?" Mozz was still conscious enough of what was going on to know his friend was upset. Neal didn't respond, continuing to stare into the glass of wine and finally sip at it. When he finished it, his blue eyes were flashing brightly. Mozz started at the glance as if he'd seen that look before.

"I don't want to talk about it Mozz." Neal growled as he got up and threw the glass, the goblet shattering against the wall into tiny pieces as he stormed into the bathroom and locked the door. He heard movement outside and someone was fiddling with the door knob.

"Neal, if it's about... I'm sorry. I heard what happened. I want to help." Mozz's voice continued as he rambled on about something or other till he was silent. Neal stared at himself in the mirror, washing his face and smoothing back his hair. Finally Neal opened up the door and saw that Mozz had curled up on the sofa and was snoring. He stared down at his friend with a wistful glance wondering what he'd do if he knew Mozz was in trouble. Would he ask Peter for help?

Neal sighed, changing into something more comfortable as he threw an extra blanket over Mozz and went to his own bed and curled up. He thought he heard June knock and peer inside but he acted like he was sleeping, not wanting to talk to anyone about what had happened. He sensed her pull the blanket up around him, tucking him in and then tiptoe out before the door shut. Neal hid beneath the covers, his eyes warm with tears as he quietly let go.

**()()()**

"_Neal... Neal wake up!_" Someone was whispering to him, a familiar voice but why... Neal opened up his eyes and turned to see Mozzie staring down at him.

"Mozz... what..." He noticed his cell phone buzzing, Mozz pointing at it. Neal nodded sleepily, sitting up in bed and pushing the covers aside as he picked up the phone.

"So you are awake. I thought you might be. I have your instructions, Caffrey. Be at the First Municipal branch downtown in two hours. I've left the plans and what you need in a manila folder in your landlady's mailbox outside. Read it well and be ready. Wear something... dark." The voice was Hartwell's, his tone as smug as ever. Neal looked at the time to see it was just after midnight. He nodded without saying much of anything, hanging up the cell and placing it back on the nightstand.

Mozz was watching him curiously, his eyes a bit dull from being hung over but still conscious enough to know something was up. Neal ignored his friend's look as he stood and walked over to the kitchenette, starting up the coffee maker before he disappeared into the bathroom. He came out after a brief shower, clean shaven, hair damp. He threw on some dark jeans, a dark turtleneck sitting long enough to slip on some black socks and suede loafers. Mozz was watching him off and on as decency allowed, rubbing at his sleepy eyes.

"Going somewhere, Neal? You can't ignore my presence forever." He was being kind but blocked him when he tried to leave. Neal didn't glare at his friend but paused, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I'll tell you in a minute. I need to do something first. Ok, Mozz?" Neal sounded tired, an exhaustion there from having let out his emotions earlier as he cried himself to sleep. Neal quietly made his way down the stairs and outside to the mailbox. He felt around in the dark finding the folder and bringing it back inside as he locked up. He turned to find June standing near the stairs watching him.

"A little late to be getting mail." She was looking at the folder he had in his hands. He wanted to lie to her but just shrugged as he walked towards her, June gently grasping his arm.

"Want me to make some snacks for you? I was getting up to make a few things for myself." She was smiling softly which calmed him and he smiled back finally.

"Thank you June. I'd like that. I think Mozzie might too." He watched her smile and move back into the dining room and disappear. Neal sighed a bit as he made his way grudgingly up the stairs, the folder heavy in his hands but not from the weight. When he entered his rooms again he found Mozzie already sitting out on the terrace with an ewer filled with coffee and two cups. Neal walked out onto the terrace and dropped the folder there as if it were something distasteful, slipping into the other chair and leaning back tiredly.

"So... what's going on, Neal. You look like I feel." Mozzie's tone was light but it expressed worry. Neal sat up and pushed the folder to Mozz who glanced down at it and opened it up. He pulled out what appeared to be a map and blueprints to a building among other things. After a moment he pushed them under the folder and looked at Neal with a wide eyed glance.

"You're not seriously considering this are you? What does the Suit say? Besides the fact you have your anklet on." Mozz stifled his reaction when June peered inside and walked over with a tray of sandwiches and snacks.

"Don't mind me. I'll be in my room reading." She excused herself and closed the door when she left, Neal watching the door a few minutes before Mozzie's cough drew him back. He was feeling guilty at keeping his friends in the dark but for Peter's sake he had to be careful.

"I have to do it, Mozz. They have Peter." He stood and paced a bit before moving over to the edge of the terrace. He felt Mozzie move next to him and lean against the wall.

"Who is this person who's got Peter? Anyone I'd know?" Mozz kept his tone even, sounding more like a co-conspirator by the moment. Neal sighed.

"Max... it's Max Darsen. He's going under the name Jerry Hartwell now, VP of First Municipal Bank. I don't know how he did it but he's playing legit and that's how he showed up. Peter and I have been working on solving some inside robberies for his boss' banks. He came down and I recognized him immediately. I think Peter suspected or else I can't think why he would have been anywhere near the scene." Neal turned back from the wall, walking back to the table and looking over the papers from the folder intently. Mozz followed, sitting down.

"Ok, I'll help you with this. I remember what you told me about Darsen. He left you behind that one time with a broken leg his man gave you during a heist. I thought he was on the FBI's most wanted." Mozz sounded concerned, pouring over the information and adding his insights as they looked it over.

"He is and it confuses me that he was able to change identities and get a job as a VP of a bank. Someone must be helping him." Neal had crossed his legs looking down and blinking. Mozz noticed and looked at the young man's leg.

"My anklet is off. Mozz, the light isn't glowing anymore." Neal looked at the clock to see it was nearly time for him to leave. Mozz gazed up at him with a worried glance, paranoia evident.

"How would Darsen have a means of turning your anklet off, Neal? You said he knew about your situation with Peter? Do you think Fowler has anything to do with his involvement. I smell a conspiracy theory, Neal. I'd run if I were you but the Suit... What do you want me to do?" He could tell Neal was stressing out, his eyes still on the dead anklet.

"Cut it off. I can't do much else and as much as I want to tell Jones, it might not be a good thing for Peter since I can't give him much to go on. Just cut it off and do some digging for me. If I don't come back... call Jones."

**()()()**

Peter woke up with a horrible headache. He tried to sit up but found he was bound securely to a cot, arms pulled behind him. He struggled, mouth full of rags and taped shut. He focused his eyes on the dimly lit room, looking around with some effort. It was some kind of warehouse or storage room, luggage and bags around him making him think of somewhere in an airport.

"Ah, you're awake. I just called your friend. He's going to help us with an acquisition for your sake. I've even had his anklet turned off for just this occasion." Hartwell stood there smiling at Peter, another man coming up behind him that made the agent blink.

"I think you two know each other? He works in OPR but that's not important." Hartwell moved aside as the man came forward and looked at Peter curiously.

"Agent Burke. Fowler may not be here but with all the trouble he caused, I've been put in charge." It was Fowler's number two, he was grinning in a menacing manner.

"I'll finish off what Fowler wasn't able to complete. None the wiser." He grinned again, his fist hitting Peter square across the chin. The agent slumped, seeing stars beneath his closed lids before getting over it.

"Enough, Derek. You'll have your fun soon. We'll be done with both of them once Caffrey gets the item. He won't disappoint thinking he's saving his friend." Hartwell didn't even try to hide the comment from Peter, making a motion as another man appeared. The figure held a syringe, tapping it free of air bubbles before Derek held Peter's head still and the needle broke skin. Peter struggled, warmth already starting to fill him as he felt the drug overtake his system.

"Sleep, Agent Burke. When you wake up, you'll be on a plane trip with your friend... to see Kate."


	4. Chapter 4

**(Chapter 4)**

Neal finished looking over the plans one last time, giving Mozzie some last minute instructions before he left his friend and his room. He crept down the stairs hoping that June had gone to bed and slipped out the front door into the night air. The evening was breezy, a cool wind gently whipping at his hair as he walked down the street and hailed a cab. He gave the driver the destination and sat back, eyes closed and tried to relax. He hoped that Peter was ok and that he would be able to do what was needed to free the agent. He felt in his pocket for his cell, the idea of it secure. Mozzie would call Jones. Jones would call him. Things would work out... he hoped.

It took a few minutes before he arrived at his destination downtown. He had the cabbie drop him off a few blocks at a nearby cafe he'd found online. It was 24 hours and fit someone being in the area this time of the morning. The driver didn't give him a second glance, yawning a bit as he took the money and drove off. Neal waited a few minutes before sneaking off down the street as if he were just walking, making the last block to the bank and hiding out in the alleyway Hartwell had indicated on the blueprints.

It was 10 minutes before he felt his cell vibrate and pulled it from his pocket.

"I'm here. Where are you?" Neal's voice was less than enthused, the sound of someone clucking their tongue on the other end.

"Have some faith, Caffrey. I have a man, his name is Soren. He will be there in just a moment. Listen to his instructions. Once you're done, I'll send you Agent Burke's location. Understand?" Hartwell's voice was cold and professional. Neal nodded at the phone, his partially illuminated face grim as he did so.

"Yeah, I understand. Let's just get this over with." Neal's voice was cold as he heard a click of the cell hanging up.

**()()()**

Neal stood there a while waiting for the man when he heard footsteps. He ducked into the shadows until he found a bright light in his face, raising his hands to cover his eyes.

"Caffrey?" The voice was deep, slightly foreign he thought as he nodded despite the light. The light went out and a tall shadow of a man stood in the darkness.

"Soren I taken it?" The man gave him a grunt for an answer before he pushed something into Neal's hands. It was a sturdy black knapsack, probably for the item he was stealing.

"So, what is this item I'm looking for?" Neal asked, a husky arm pressing him back against the wall. He gasped but another hand pushed itself against his mouth.

"Go up the storm pipe and into the window. Once inside you're going to take the vent into the third room, exit into the office and there's a safe. The item is hidden there. Max didn't tell me what it was but said you would know. Understand?" He felt the man's hand pushing harder against his chest and face till he nodded assent. He felt the pressure give and he took in a breath.

"Good, now get going. I will wait here for your return and watch your back." He could imagine the man grinning darkly and nodded again as he turned and looked up at the storm pipe. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness and he could just make out the hand and footholds he needed. It would take a bit of work but he could shimmy up. Neal didn't bother asking Soren for a boost but took a running leap up a few feet and starting climbing. He was glad he had brought gloves, the brick cutting into them but not his fingers. He nearly slipped once or twice but made it to the window and pried it open. He had expected it to be wired but nothing happened, the lights for the alarm off as he entered. Hartwell no doubt had jimmied them.

Neal followed Soren's instructions, he saw a large vent and immediately pried it loose. It was big enough for someone of his size to squeeze into quite easily. He peered inside but there were no alarms or infrared detectors so he slipped through and started crawling, making it after a few minutes to the third vent. He could see a fancy office on the other side with a large walnut desk and fancy leather chair. He pried the vent open, pulling the grate inside and slipping out and down.

"_That was easy enough._" He whispered to himself as he noticed the electronic lock on the office door and other alarms that had been turned off. Neal searched the room till he found a rather large fake Matisse on the wall nearest the window. He pulled it carefully away to find the safe behind it. He pulled out the knapsack to find tools to pick the combination lock. It took a few minutes but he finally got in. The door for the safe swung open with a quiet creak, Neal peeking inside in the dim light.

The safe had the usual contents: bonds, some bills wrapped with paper amounts, insurance policies and the like. He couldn't see what sort of art or other precious item Hartwell would be looking for that was so special. Of course these items weren't valueless but they weren't art related.

Neal kept digging, looking carefully for something hidden when he finally saw it. In the top right corner of the up-most shelf he saw a very small symbol of the Di Vinci man. It had been printed on the metal of the safe as an icon but when he reached to touch it, he heard a soft '_click_.' The back of the safe was now open, a secret compartment revealed. He waited for it to finish and peered into the new space seeing a scarlet clothed item. Neal reached in and pulled the item out, the scarlet cloth a heavy velvet material covering what seemed to be a book or similar item.

He unwrapped the square item and gasped in awe at what was inside. It was an original copy of Di Vinci's notes and diagrams. The paper looked very delicate and fragile, yellowed with age but still in great shape. He wondered how Marin had gained possession of something such as this when he knew a copy, a real authentic copy was in a museum in Italy. He awed at the sight, wanting to touch it but leaving it in the acid free plastic covering, blue eyes glittering with fascination.

"So you did find it after all." Neal heard the voice behind him in the darkness, having been too distracted by his find to hear the soft footsteps. He started to turn when he heard a quiet '_pop_' and felt something hit his neck. Neal reached back and felt a small dart in his skin, his vision already starting to blur before he'd registered the shot. He slumped forward against the safe, feeling his body begin to give into the dart's contents. Someone grabbed him, pulling him back roughly by the shoulders and tossing him aside. It was Soren, the man grabbing the manuscript and pushing it into the bag Neal had been given. The goon left the safe cracking tools behind, the safe open and glanced down at the con.

"Hartwell... sends his regards." He saw Soren pull something out that glinted shiny and black in the dim light of the office. A gun. Neal pulled himself together and rolled under the walnut desk, the bullet from the silencer just missing him. He heard the man curse and then the sound of feet approaching from outside.

"Someone's in the office. Set off the alarms!"

Voices of guards could be heard, Neal trying hard to remain conscious as he heard Soren exit the room through means he could only guess at as he hid under the desk. Neal waited, the guards outside unable to enter with the electronic lock out of commission. He peered out from under the desk and looked around, seeing the coast was clear and pulled himself to his feet warily. With some effort he shimmied back up to the vent and closed it up again as he made his way back to the original entry point.

"The thief is smart. He found the piece, Max. I'm going to let the cops get him. It's getting a little hot here and how much are they going to believe an ex-con, CI or not?" It was Soren's voice he heard outside the ventilation shaft. He waited, holding his breath as he tried to remain conscious. Whatever was in that dart was powerful but his adrenalin from the chase and nearly getting shot was keeping him conscious for now. He waited till he heard the henchman exit through the window before he did the same. He didn't quite make it all the way down before he fell to the ground, knocking the wind out of him. Neal was starting to feel his adrenalin rush end and the drug take over. He had to make it to safety and quick before the cops caught him.

"Someone exited out the window on the third floor near the alley way. Check the alley!"

Neal limped across the alley and saw a fire escape leading up into the next building which seemed to be under construction. He managed to hoist himself up to the ladder from a nearby dumpster and climbed the rickety rungs till he made it to the third floor and slipped inside through a broken window. The building was apparently under renovations for offices, furniture scattered about in plastic if not boxes.

He scooted past the main rooms and headed for what he hoped was an exit when his cell buzzed. Neal paused, his eyes widening in the darkness unsure if he should answer it. If it was Hartwell, he might be checking to see if he was still free or alive. Neal check the number but it came up '_unknown caller_' which meant it could even be Mozzie for all he knew. He hesitated, his fear, terror and frustration creating a haze that mixed into pure confusion with the dart's contents as he tried to figure out what to do. The phone stopped buzzing and he heard a soft beep as he got a text message. He read it:

"_**Neal, where are you? It's nearly 4 am. Should I call Jones?**_"

It was Mozzie calling. He gave a sigh of relief, speed dialing his friend and pushing the phone to his ear as he started to move again. The room was swaying drunkenly as he continued towards what he hoped was an exit.

"_Neal? Where are you? Are you ok? How did the heist go?_" Mozzie sounded worried, his usual paranoia definitely in full swing. Neal swallowed hard, finding his mouth dry and tongue feeling rather thick.

"I... it was a... trap. Max... lied..." Neal stumbled and fell, the phone sliding a few feet away from his hands but he couldn't move to grab it. He was too exhausted, his body giving in to the drug as he felt his vision begin to fade. He could just hear Mozzie on the other end despite his helplessness.

"_Neal? Neal... what happened? NEAL!_"

**()()()**

Mozzie heard the sound of breathing in the background and then silence, his eyes widening in fear. He jumped when he heard the knock on Neal's door and turned to see June peeking in.

"Mozz, is everything... where's Neal?" She had obviously figured out something was going on but the little guy wasn't sure how much to tell her. At this point although he knew Neal was in danger and told him to contact Jones, he was debating even doing that but he had to do something. Neal was in danger!

"Neal... he uhm... I need a ride to somewhere." He wasn't sure what else to say and he saw June nod, her manner understanding as she picked up his vibe. She must know Neal was up to something. June was smart and she wouldn't turn Neal in if he was in the right.

"I understand. Let me get dressed and meet me downstairs. I needed to go out and get some milk at the store for breakfast. I'll give you a lift on the way." She smiled her usual way but with a hint of worry knowing something was going on. Mozz nodded thankfully.

"Thank you June. I'm sor..." She held up a hand and left it at that as she exited.

**()()()**

They drove up in June's Bentley, Mozz looking down at his phone and looking intently at it as they passed the bank. He made a sound and motion, his manner upset.

"He's here... his phone is showing up as in that abandoned building beside the bank. So many cops! I'm hoping they haven't found him. Go around the corner, June." He was looking freaked out as they went around the block and made it to the back of the other building. June parked briefly, looking at Mozz.

"I'll be right back. Call me if something happens and I'll phone Agent Jones." She was looking at him with a worried look but he nodded.

"I will. Don't worry. I will." Mozzie ducked out of the car into the shadows and disappeared as June's car started back down the street. He found a broken window that had been boarded up and pulled a few boards aside to squeeze inside and look around. The place was dusty from disuse and obvious construction. Mozz found a staircase and started up as he followed the small blip of the GPS tracker on his phone leading to Neal. He didn't see anyone inside nor any cops outside so he figured the place was fairly empty and more than likely he could go in, find Neal and get out again before June came.

"_Neal... Neal..._" He was calling softly when he reached the 3rd floor. The GPS said he was close but he only found the phone lying on the ground and no Neal. Mozz was feeling scared now, taking a few steps back and heading for the stairs again when a hand touched his ankle and he just about screamed, falling down and scooting back.

"Mo...zzz..." The voice was weak and slurred a bit. Mozz peered into the darkness and saw a figure on the floor in the corner. He got up and shone a light. He saw Neal slumped against the wall, laying on his side, hand outstretched.

"Neal? Neal..." Mozz nudged his friend, noting the labored breath of his friend indicating he had been drugged. He wasn't sure he could lift the man up and drag him out but he had to try.

"Neal, can you stand? I need you to help me get you out. Neal?" Mozz felt his friend nod slightly as he moved weakly to a sitting position. With some effort Mozz got the younger man to his feet and held him up.

June was good to her word and showed up outside about the same time Mozzie managed to get downstairs and outside with Neal. The young man was barely conscious, slumping across the seat in the back as Mozz pushed him inside and slipped behind, closing the door. June took off immediately but not so fast anyone would be suspicious. He noticed a bag in the front seat next to her holding a carton of milk.

"My cover." She smiled slightly, her brow furrowing slightly as she peered back through the rear-view mirror at Neal. Mozz was leaning over the young man who was laying flat on his stomach across the back seat of the Bentley, breathing shallow and labored from whatever he'd been given. Mozz looked worried, pulling off his jacket and propping up his friend's head just enough to keep him comfy.

The trip back to June's was uneventful, Neal far from conscious when they arrived that both had to help hold him up as they entered her home. With some work they got the con upstairs and into bed, Neal's face pale and flushed, beads of sweat on his brow as he moved ever so slightly.

"Neal... Neal dear, it's June. Can you hear me?" June had grabbed a small bowl and filled it with water, dipping a cloth into it and swabbing his face. Neal didn't speak, his eyes moving slowly beneath closed lids, lips parting ever so slightly as he breathed.

"Mozz, does this look like a needle mark?" June had noticed a small bruise and red mark on the young man's neck, pointing it out to Mozz who blinked.

"Maybe. June... I need to tell you something. It's about what's going on." Mozz paused when he saw June hold up a hand but he shook his head and continued.

"I have to tell you. Neal was trying to help Peter. He's in danger and they threatened to kill him unless Neal did this certain thing." Mozz stopped there, trying to figure out what else to add. He watched June nod, taking in what he said and looking a bit confused.

"Peter's a hostage then? I talked to Elizabeth earlier. She said she was worried because Peter sent her a text that he was on a stakeout. She wanted to know if Neal was involved and I said I wasn't sure since he had come and gone so quickly. I hadn't thought to say anything till now when I saw him here." She blushed slightly as if feeling guilty for not mentioning that fact. Mozz shook his head.

"So they faked a page to El? She doesn't know... nobody does then." Mozz looked down at his friend laying there unconscious and paled. The Suit was in danger and only they three knew, Neal out of commission for who knew how long. He looked frustrated as he pulled out his cell and tried to figure something out.

"Should I call Jones?" June's voice broke through his deliberation as he tried to figure out what Neal would do. He did say to call the agent if something happened and it had. He nodded reluctantly knowing it was what had to be done.


	5. Chapter 5

**(Chapter 5)**

Peter felt consciousness return, his head aching from something. His memory was fuzzy till he started to remember where he was. He glanced around the small luggage room they were keeping him in, listening to the sound of a plane in the distance. He was at an airport but where, he didn't know. Peter shifted his weight but was unable to get any more comfortable than he already wasn't. His body ached from being stuck in the same position for hours. He wondered what Hartwell had planned and if Neal was ok. He found he was no longer gagged, taking a deep but quiet breath as he tried to wake himself. He held it when he heard voices nearby.

"Are you sure he got away? I knew he was tricky and now we can finish this. Yes, they told us once they have the book... good. Derek is helping from OPR. Good Good... We'll be in touch once every thing's been taken care of."

He heard a beep of a cell phone being hung up, followed by footsteps. Peter pretended to be unconscious as the steps neared him. Someone shook him, grabbing his chin and moving his head before they let go.

"He's still out. Do you think Caffrey will come after what happened? He doesn't trust you anymore so why would he come for Burke?" It was Derek's voice. Peter heard movement from another person nearby.

"Caffrey is loyal. He will come because he'll think he's doing the noble thing. He was like that when I knew him." Hartwell's voice was cold and smug making Peter want to jump up and beat the man up. He didn't want Neal to come if it was a trap. He thought about Elizabeth not knowing where he was and hoped she hadn't worried too much. He was missing her, thinking he might never see his wife again when Hartwell continued.

"Don't worry, Agent Burke. Your partner will come to your rescue. Only he knows you're missing. I took the liberty of paging your lovely wife with your cell. She thinks you're on a stakeout." Hartwell had addressed him directly, Peter opening his eyes slowly to glare at the man. There was obviously no pretending around him.

"He's not going to walk into a trap if you already tried to kill him once. He'll bring backup from the Bureau. Sounds like you may have shot yourself in the foot, Hartwell." Peter continued to glare up at the man who stared back and clucked his tongue again.

"Oh I'm almost certain he's coming. There's been activity with your junior agent, Agent Jones. Someone called him late last night. I'm just waiting for the right moment to send a message. Caffrey will come and there will be no backup." Hartwell smiled, making a motion. Several men suddenly appeared, cutting Peter loose and binding his arms behind him.

"Take him to the plane. Let's see how much Mr. Caffrey cares for his friends when they're in danger."

**()()()**

Neal woke up some time after 9 am with a splitting headache. He gave a groan, rolling over and pulling the blanket over his head. He had the feeling he was forgetting something important, his temples throbbing with a beat all their own. His mouth felt dry and had a bad taste. Neal tried to ignore it but the more he woke up, the more he felt a wave of nausea begin to sweep over him despite his stupor. Finally Neal had to rise, pushing the blankets aside as he stumbled urgently to the bathroom.

He emerged a few minutes later, what little had been in his stomach from the night before expelled. Neal walked back wearily to his bed when he heard a soft cough.

"Sleeping is no mean art: for its sake one must stay awake all day. _(Friedrich Nietzsche)_" Mozzie's voice caught his attention, Neal gazing tiredly at his friend.

"Mozz, what are you doing here?" Neal was confused by his friend's presence. He watched Mozz blink curiously back.

"Must have been some powerful drug they gave you if you can't remember last night." Mozz walked over and stared up at the younger man.

"I was drugged? I don't..." Neal suddenly swayed on his feet as if he was going to fall over, Mozz barely caught him, leading Neal to the sofa. The younger man slumped across the couch on his belly, his eyes rolling back as he seemed to pass out. Mozz shook him.

"Neal? Neal wake up!" Mozz heard a soft groan after a moment, Neal rousing but just barely. There was a soft knock and June peered inside walking over when she saw Mozzie's look. Another figure followed close behind. It was Agent Jones. Mozz continued to look worriedly down at something on the sofa, June noticing Neal's prone form slumped across it. She hurried over.

"Haversham, what's wrong with Neal? Neal... Neal wake up!" June's voice was filled with worry, her hand gently nudging the young man. Neal gave a soft groan but didn't rouse. Jones looked at the CI with a frown, his manner concerned.

"June, what happened to Caffrey?" Jones checked Neal over, opening one eye and peering at the young man's languid form. He saw the bruise on the con's neck.

"He needs a doctor. A buddy of mine in CIA had these symptoms when he was given sodium pentathol once. Not a pleasant drug once you wake up from it." Jones slapped Neal on the face just hard enough that the con muttered something about five more minutes of sleep. The agent grinned turning to June.

"Make some of that Italian roast. I think that should help him wake up and..." He looked at Mozz who was still looking upset.

"Help me get him in the shower. Cold water ought to help."

**()()()**

It took a good hour before Neal was conscious enough to actually know who was around him. His memory still seemed a bit fuzzy and he was somewhat listless from the drug's side effects. He didn't seem to remember anything about what happened the day before, everyone nervous about his lack of memory. It was nearly noon when Neal seemed a bit more himself and he was sitting out on the terrace with June, Mozz and Jones drinking coffee and eating a bit of fruit to ease his upset stomach.

"Feeling better, Neal?" June placed a gentle hand on his shoulder as she poured him some juice and offered him some more fruit and oatmeal. He nodded, his blue eyes a bit less dilated now as the young man sat up straighter. His eyes seemed to squint in memory of something, then open wider as if he'd forgotten it again. He sighed, looking at Jones and the rest of his friends unsure what to say.

"I keep thinking I've forgotten something... speaking of missing stuff. Where's Peter? I guess he sent you to come check up as to why I wasn't at work today?" He was looking at Jones curiously who stared back with an odd glance.

"Neal, about Peter..." Mozz sounded uncomfortable, his look matching his tone as it was reflected in the expression of Mozz and Jones.

"Neal, dear..." June sat near him and put a hand on his.

"You were doing something for Peter. Do you remember going out last night?" June was smiling softly but she seemed expectant. Neal blinked as he tried to think what it could be she was expecting him to remember.

"Doing something for Peter? I remember leaving work and... I came home." He looked at Mozz as if waiting to get an answer but the little guy gave him a shrug.

"I... I think I met with someone." His voice trailed off as he started to see something in his memory. A flash of something that made him shudder ever so slightly.

"Mozz... what does _Vitruvian Man_ and _Da Vinci_ mean? I keep thinking... I see Peter in that circle for the illustration but he's... bound." Neal's eyes were staring somewhat blankly a moment as he tried to remember, his vision seeing something in his mind's eye before he blinked and looked around at everyone. They were staring at him in an odd manner, Neal unsure what was going on. He stood up, feeling uncomfortable and moved away from the table and back into the apartment. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Jones.

"Caffrey, June called me early this morning and told me you were trying to help Peter. I need you to remember what happened and where he is. He's missing and El thinks he's out on a stakeout." The agent looked at him with an urgent glance, Neal unsure what to say. Peter was missing? Peter... He kept seeing the _Vitruvian Man_ but in place was Peter tied up. Neal couldn't figure what the connection was between Da Vinci's work and Peter being lost. It hurt his head to think about it, a wave of dizziness hitting him again.

"Hey... Caffrey you ok?" Jones caught him, leading him over to a chair and sitting him down. Neal nodded, leaning back as images flashed in his mind. _He saw Peter on the wheel in the illustration spinning dangerously, a dark figure in the background in control. Next to the dark figure was an odd equation: (jH=Md) that made no sense. The wheel seemed to spin faster and faster and then an image of clock hands were super-imposed, the second hand counting down to something._ He snapped out of the reverie when someone slapped him. Neal looked up to see Jones hovering over him.

"Peter... I had to do something. I only had a certain amount of time. He's in danger but... Dammit!" He pushed himself up weakly, stumbling to his feet and nearly falling over again. Jones caught him and held him up till he was steady again.

"I see a clock super-imposed over the image now. I don't... Mozzie, you understand right?" He saw his friend walk over and nod uncertainly, patting his arm.

"Well I know a bit about symbology and dreams... tell me what you're seeing and I'll do my best." Mozz sat across from him on the sofa as he plopped back into the chair. Neal tried to picture what he was seeing in his mind's eye and verbalize it.

"I see _Da Vinci's Vitruvian Man_ but instead of the original illustration I see Peter in his suit tied in the circle... trapped. Beside the circle is a dark figure spinning it faster and faster. I can't stop the action but I notice a weird equation added to the figure... (_jH=Md_) glowing beside them. Then I see a clock super-imposed over the whole circle counting down the minutes." Neal's eyes are staring into the air at his memory before he blinks and focuses on his surroundings again. He sees Mozz taking all the information in and writing it down on a small pad from his pocket.

"I don't understand the _Da Vinci_ reference but the dark figure... those might be initials. You told me you had a meeting with Jerry Hartwell yesterday and he was really Max Darsen. That would explain the equation. The clock obviously means you are on a time table to help the Suit but still... the reference to _Da Vinci_ is confusing. Did you actually find the item that Darsen wanted you to get him?" Mozz was looking at Jones not sure how much to say but the agent smiled innocently.

"Don't worry, anything you say here isn't leaving this room. I'm here to help Peter. I haven't had a chance to let Hughes know yet since I wanted to be sure of the details first. El is under the impression he's on a stakeout and for now... we'll leave it at that. I just need you to remember what happened, Caffrey. Where is Peter?" Jones' tone nudged at him but in a friendly way, Neal nodding as he tried to think.

Another flashback hit him:

_Neal found himself crawling through a tunnel that seemed to go on forever. He passed two openings before stopping at the third. He found himself in a room with a large walnut tree done in the style of Matisse but it seemed to be made of cardboard. He walked over to the tree and pushed it aside to find Peter as Vitruvian man and the dark figure standing guard. He heard voices in the background and turned to find another man behind him with a gun. He ducked under the tree for protection just as he felt someone shaking him._

"Neal... Neal wake up!" He saw Jones shaking him, June on a cell calling someone. He thought he heard the word "_doctor_" as she spoke. He shook his head.

"I'm ok... I... I think I remembered something. There was something made of walnut. I hid under it. Maybe a desk. I don't know for sure but... There was a large _Matisse_ in the room near it, a fake. Someone shot me with a tranquilizer gun and then tried to kill me. I had found something they took from me... A book. I think it had to do with _Da Vinci_. Atleast I think that's right if the symbology works out." He leaned back in the chair exhausted, the after effects of the drug still in his system. Jones nodded, picking up his cell.

"I think that will work for now and June has the location you were found at. I think we can make this work to our favor. Let me call Hughes." Jones stepped out onto the terrace a moment while Mozz continued to worry over his friend. June hung up the cell and walked over, her hand gently squeezing his shoulder.

"Doctor Monroe will be here soon. I want to be sure you're well, Neal. I'm glad you're remembering." She hugged him gently before excusing herself to go downstairs and wait for the doctor. Mozz stuck around, sitting on the sofa, his eyes bright with worry.

"A large fake Matisse in a bank president's office? That's suspicious in itself. You think Darsen planted that so you would find the safe? I can't imagine what else would be behind such a monstrosity." He sounded almost disgusted in a humorous sort of way. Neal smiled slightly despite his worry over Peter's whereabouts. Peter's life was in his hands. He hoped he remembered correctly and in time.

"Mozz, I have a quick question for you." Jones was still on the phone but he called to the con, Mozz looking at Neal nervously before he walked over to see what the agent wanted. Neal watched the two talking out on the terrace before he was distracted by a buzzing sound. He looked around to see his cell on the coffee table nearby vibrating ever so slightly, the light blinking. He reached over and picked it up, pushing a button as he pressed it to his ear.

"_So glad to hear from you again, Neal. I meant to end our little friendship last night but cest la vie..._" The voice made his eyes widen as he recognized it. Hartwell!

"Max? Where is he? What have you done with him?" Neal's voice was low but angry as the memory of the past day continued to come back to him. He heard the man chuckle humorlessly on the other side.

"_Agent Burke is waiting for you as promised. I have what I want, you can pick him up at gate 12. I believe you were there the other day before your nerves got the better of you. Come alone._" Max's voice was cold before the line died and Neal lowered the phone, pushing it into his pocket. He turned and saw that neither Mozz nor Jones had noticed the exchange. June was still downstairs. He could sneak away he thought.

Neal stood, pushing on his shoes which sat under the coffee table and quietly drew himself up to his feet, slipping out into the hallway and down the stairs. He had barely made it to the ground floor when a hand grasped his arm and startled him. It was June.

"Neal, the doctor will be here any moment. Where are you sneaking off to?" She sounded somewhat reproachful, a tone she had never used with him before. He felt himself burning with guilt as he kept his eyes lowered but felt the need to bolt. Her gentle touch on his arm kept him from moving despite himself. She finally let go and sighed.

"Just bring him back safe. I'll tell Jones to follow your phone. Mozzie has that GPS thing. It's how we found you last night." She gazed at him with a motherly look of concern, handing him her car keys. He nodded back, giving her a quick hug before he headed out of the house.


	6. Chapter 6

**(Chapter 6)**

Neal parked outside the same gate Jones had dropped them off at barely two days ago. He sat there a moment thinking about things and trying to wake himself up. He was still a bit hung over from the drug they'd given him last night. How he had driven so far without passing out, he wasn't sure.

He stepped out, closing the door and leaning back on the car frame. The world felt like it was swaying but he had to get over this. Peter was depending on him.

"You came! And you're alone. How sweet."

Neal turned to see Hartwell... Max standing there just off to his left by the gate. Soren stood off behind the man looking scarier in the daylight than he had during the robbery. His memory was starting to become clearer. Neal stood a bit straighter, his anger and worry giving him strength. They didn't need to know he was feeling poorly and he refused to let them see.

"Max... I see you bought your pet goon to oversee things. Where is Peter?" Neal put enough of an edge to his voice for effect although he wasn't faking for once. Impotent anger he had held back was leaking through, and in his current state he was not in control of hiding what he felt for once. He thought he saw Max blink a bit, slightly uncertain of what Neal might do.

"I see. Well I did get what I wanted and I promised you your friend." Max's tone was condescending as he turned and made a motion to Soren who picked up a walkie-talkie and spoke quietly. Max made a motion towards the tarmac.

"Your friend is over there, Neal." Max walked through the gate, holding it open for Neal who didn't hesitate but a second before passing through. He paused as Max made a gesture towards something glinting silvery in the daylight.

"You have but to walk over, untie him and you'll never see me again." Max smiled a little too cunningly, Neal nodding with a glare on his face. He turned to see a leer jet across the pavement, a sudden wave of cold washing over him. He felt his stomach lurch slightly despite his resolve. He heard a slightly chuckle to his side.

"Still thinking of Kate? Such a shame..."

Neal turned to look at Max if only a moment, moving forward suddenly as his rage took over. He only stopped short when he saw a gun pointed at him by Soren. Max's face looked a bit pale as if he hadn't expected Neal's reaction but still held his own smiling a little less confidently.

"Go to your friend, Neal. He's waiting." Max smirked, gesturing to Soren and they walked away leaving Neal alone. The young man continued to stand there unmoving, his rage and anger making him shake ever so slightly.

He looked up and saw the plane and someone moving inside of it. Suddenly his memory flashed to another scene.

_Kate?_

It was the same kind of plane she had been on. The one he was supposed to have boarded. The one that had exploded. It was a miracle he hadn't been on there. Peter had been there. Peter had stopped him.

He stared at the plane, still seeing a figure moving there just barely visible beyond the windows. He thought he heard sirens but they disappeared into the background of his thoughts as he moved slowly forward.

Neal moved a few more feet, his steps slow but deliberate. He kept seeing the figure on the plane but his mind was somehow going back to that day.

_Kate?_

He started to walk a bit faster, the sound of sirens growing but he was distracted by the figure on the plane. He started to move forward when someone grabbed his arm.

"Don't do it, Neal." The voice was familiar, breaking through his thoughts and daze he was still in. Neal paused despite his eyes remaining hooked on the plane head of him.

_Kate..._

"Neal, it's ok. I'm... ok."

That voice. He finally turned, his blue eyes meeting two brown ones. Those eyes were tired looking, exhaustion evident but still bright and smiling. He took in the rest of the figure, his eyes widening.

"She's on the plane. I have to..." He felt himself go blank a moment. What was it he was doing again? He had been doing something before he'd been stopped. The figure nodded, a sad smiled on their face.

"She was here but she's... gone now, Neal. Come with me. Please..." Peter's voice woke him up, Neal seeing the figure on the plane clearly now. It was a man but it wasn't Peter or Kate. Peter was beside him holding his arm, smiling softly despite a nasty bruise on his chin.

"Peter..." Neal barely said that when he slumped, collapsing to his knees. He felt strong hands catch him, barely conscious of the figures moving around them, shouting. Someone lifted him up, an arm curled around his waist as they supported him.

"Come on Neal."

**()()()**

Neal had fallen into a kind of haze, an after effect apparently of the sodium pentathol. The paramedics were checking him and Peter out saying Neal would be ok as the drug left his system. Peter had been luckier with his reaction although he was still dealing with the pain of the punch to his chin from Derek. The EMT gave the agent an ice pack for his discomfort, making sure he didn't have any of the same symptoms as Neal.

Peter sat beside Neal who lay on a gurney in the ambulance, eyes partially open and staring rather blankly ahead.

"Neal..." Peter's voice was just loud enough, Neal's blue eyes rolling towards the sound, focusing vaguely on its source. He nodded to the agent, closing his eyes a moment before opening them up again.

"How are you feeling?" Peter kept his voice calm.

"Tired. How did you... get free?" Neal tried to sit up but Peter pushed him back gently with a shake of his head. Peter gave a soft groan when he did that, obviously a bit off despite his being more conscious than Neal.

"Seizure... well faked one. Scared the two guards. One of them untied me and well you can guess what happened." He pointed out the back of the ambulance at a mean looking goon being dragged from the direction of the plane. Neal raised his head slightly to look, arching a brow.

"So you tied one up and put him on the plane? Peter... never thought you had that in you." Neal smiled ever so slightly.

"Well was already on the plane when it happened. They were going to..." Peter paused as if unsure what to say. It was still too soon after Kate's death to say what Max/Hartwell had intended. Neal looked at him curiously but luckily Jones popped in to interrupt them.

"Hey boss... Caffrey. Feeling better?" He addressed them both, Neal nodding ever so slightly. Peter grunted, ice pack still against his chin.

"Ah... well, you'll be glad to know they dis..." Jones' words stopped suddenly as Peter poked him. Neal looked between the agents, Jones looking confused as Peter nervously rubbed at the back of his neck with his free hand.

"Sorry, involuntary muscle contraction." He said it towards Jones with a forceful glance. The agent nodded.

"Uhm... they discovered Hartwell was one of the FBI's most wanted through an _anonymous_ tip. He's been implicated and booked on the bank robberies, including last night's." Jones winked at Neal drawing a look from Peter as he whistled and walked away. The agent looked at Neal curiously, the young man blushing slightly.

"Is there something I should know? Wait! Don't tell me..." Peter figured he was holding out with not telling Neal what Hartwell had planned for them. It had been dumb luck he'd escaped and gotten the bomb squad there in time to disarm the jet. He shuddered to think how Neal would react to know what had almost happened.

"Peter, I'm glad you're ok." Neal's voice sounded rather forlorn, his blue eyes still a wee bit glassy. Peter nodded, patting him on the shoulder.

"You too. I heard he double crossed you. I'm glad you're ok." Peter watched Neal nod sleepily at him, suddenly feeling his own exhaustion hit him now that he was free to let it.

"Peter?" Neal's voice sounded far away as he nodded, eyes closed.

"Yes Neal, what is it?" Peter leaned back against the side of the ambulance, head starting to slump to one side.

"I'm sorry." His voice trailed off, the comment odd to Peter but he was too tired to give it much precedence as he felt himself fall asleep.

**()()()**

Three days passed between the meeting with Hartwell and all that had transpired. El had been absolutely terrified when she found out what had really happened. It took a couple of days for her worry to lessen, El taking some time from work to spend with Peter while he recuperated. He ended up with a nasty bruise on the side of his face but was otherwise ok.

Neal stayed in his room at June's, not having anything wrong beyond getting the drug out of his system. Dr. Monroe visited and kept him in bed until he quit having fainting spells. Neal slept and had odd dreams about walking down the tarmac towards the plane.

"_**Neal...**__" He turned from his path and faced the speaker. He blinked seeing Kate standing there._

"_**Kate?**__" Neal was confused. Looking at her, his back to the plane._

"_**I'm glad you're ok, Neal. I was... afraid.**__" Her blue eyes looked watery, her expression sadder than he remembered. He reached to hug her but she stepped back._

"_**Neal, I can't stay. I just had to be sure you were safe.**__" She sounded far away, her voice fading as he found himself looking at her walking towards the plane. Something made him want to follow but he couldn't move._

"_**Kate...**__"_

Neal woke up, blinking as he sat up in bed and looked around. He was in his room at June's although he felt like he had been gone a very long time. Maybe the drugs had messed up his sense of time, his mind feeling a bit more rested if not clearer. He stretched and yawned, pulling the duvet aside and sitting with his feet hanging over the edge of the bed. Neal pushed himself to his feet sleepily, yawning as he trudged over to the bathroom and closed the door.

He exited a few minutes later having showered and shaved. Neal looked out on the terrace to see a tray of food and coffee already waiting for him, June apparently had snuck in to check on him. He smiled, pulling on a comfortable pair of jeans and a black tee before sitting down at the wrought iron table and enjoying the small feast before him. It was late morning, the sun sparkling off the nearby buildings. Neal was leaning back, enjoying a cup of June's Italian roast when he heard a cough from across the room.

"Mind if I join you?" Peter's face peered in through the partially open door. Neal nodded, pouring a second cup of coffee and pushing it near the empty chair across from him. Peter smiled, walking across the room, out onto the terrace and sat down in the empty chair. He was wearing a tan polo shirt tucked into brown dockers and looked rather comfortable. His chin was less bruised looking but there was still a bit of swelling visible.

"How's the jaw?" Neal pushed a plate of fruit over, Peter nodding and picking a piece of cantaloupe off.

"Sore. Feels like I had a root canal but the dentist said I didn't get any teeth loosened. Small miracle. You?" Peter took a bite of the melon, sipping at his coffee afterwards.

"Not quite so listless. Head still feels like I'm hung over though. Doctor said that's a common effect but should go away in another day or so." He paused, Neal taking a strawberry and popping it into his mouth. Peter coughed slightly.

"I heard that Hartwell was caught with an original copy of Da Vinci's manuscripts which includes the _Vitruvian man_ illustration." He paused, looking at Neal curiously. The younger man glances back with a slight glittering of his blue eyes as he sipped at his coffee.

"He says he had _someone_ steal it for him but the only fingerprints are from his goon Soren. I guess he picked the wrong man for the job." He sipped at his own coffee a moment, quiet growing between them. Neal shifted in his seat slightly, coughing.

"Perhaps the person he got to steal it did it for a good reason. An unselfish reason." Neal chewed on a piece of honeydew, his blue eyes averted ever so much. Peter glanced over.

"Perhaps." Peter said casually as he grabbed a piece of pineapple. Neal looked at him curiously.

"How's Elizabeth doing? I was out of it when she showed up that first day. I barely remember the past two days but I think I heard her talking to me." He furrowed his brow as he tried to remember, Peter nodding with a grin.

"She's well. Finally let me out of her sight. She was so scared when they told her what happened. They left out a few details since I didn't want her to completely freak out." His face went dark a moment as if he'd said too much, putting another piece of fruit in his mouth and chewing it slowly. Neal looked at his friend curiously, remembering the item he'd left out the other day and how Jones had hesitated on telling him what was going on. Peter was holding back which wasn't like him. Neal was going to have to find out what he was holding out on.

"Oh... I almost forgot. El wanted me to see if you wanted to come to dinner. She wasn't sure how you were feeling so she sent me as an emissary." He blushed slightly, refilling his cup.

"Sure. I'd like that."

**()()()**

Neal met Mozzie in the park later that day, his friend wanting to see how he was feeling and to get him some info on what had happened.

"It looks like OPR was involved with this, Neal. Did the Suit mention anything to do with the Bureau? They obviously want to close up the loose ends..." Mozzie sounded more paranoid than usual, his voice trailing off. Neal stared at him with a slightly pale glance.

"No he didn't but he did seem tight-lipped about something. I'm still trying to figure out what it is. So, any reason why they wanted this Da Vinci manuscript so badly? Soren nearly killed me stealing it from me." Neal shuddered remembering what happened and how close he'd come to getting shot. Mozzie took his arm and drew his attention back.

"Neal, that's the least of your worries." Mozzie's tone made him blink, narrowing his eyes at his friend.

"Least? I don't under..." Mozzie interrupted him.

"They were going to kill the Suit. When you got on that plane it was going to explode. You were lucky he escaped and got the bomb squad out there so quickly." Mozzie looked absolutely terrified now at the thought, Neal picking up on the paranoia. They wanted Peter and him... dead? He stood, looking a little more tense than he did. Neal also felt a bit of anger. That's what Jones had been about to say: _disarmed_ the plane not _discovered_ Hartwell's secret. Peter was protecting him again, the fact he wasn't told bothering him. They didn't think he could handle the truth?

"He didn't tell you? Neal... I'm sor..." Mozzie stopped when he saw the look on Neal's face. It made him gulp a bit.

"It's ok. I know I've been a bit... off. Why would he tell me about that when I just lost..." Neal trembled slightly, turning around and walking away. He didn't even say good-bye to Mozzie, his mind replaying what his friend had said.

_They were going to kill the Suit. When you got on that plane it was going to explode._

He shivered, walking without looking till he realized he had walked back to June's. He paused outside, unsure what he wanted to do until he heard a honk and turned to see Peter pulling up in the Taurus. Neal stared at the vehicle, his mind awash in thoughts. The passenger side window lowered as the car pulled aside and parked, Peter peeking over.

"Hey, I was just coming to pick you up. Are you ready?" Peter sounded casual but blinked a bit as he noticed Neal's expression. Neal nodded vaguely as he held up a hand. He walked into June's and quickly made his way across the large foyer and up the stairs to his room, closing the door and locking it behind him as he leaned against it.

Neal felt his nerves jangled as he slid down to the floor and sat there, back to the door. He was thinking about what Mozzie had said and remembering Kate's death. It had almost happened again only he would have lost Peter and his own life if things had progressed. He sat there shaking, the thought of what had almost happened affecting him till he couldn't cope.

He must have sat there longer than he figured because he felt more than heard the knock as someone rapped on the door.

"Neal? It's June. Peter was wondering if you were coming downstairs." He started at the sound of her voice, embarrassed as he wiped at his eyes and started to stand. He unlocked the door and opened it slowly, June's face peering at his with motherly concern. He could just see the figure of Peter downstairs looking upwards.

"June... Sorry. I was freshening up. I didn't mean to take so long." He sniffled a bit, wiping at his eyes, her expression blank but he could tell she knew better.

"It's ok, dear. Should I send him up?" Her voice had that extra tone of concern in it but he just nodded.

"Sure. Thanks." He watched her smiled softly, as she turned and started down the stairs, Peter coming up soon after, his footsteps obvious on the wooden stairs. Neal was standing over by the French doors which were closed and curtained. He heard the door close, someone walk across the room and then a hand on his shoulder. He started ever so slightly before he turned.

"Neal... are you ok? You look like you've seen a ghost. If dinner's a bad idea, I'm sure El wouldn't mind a rain check." He looked a bit disappointed but more worried. Neal shook his head.

"I think we need to talk... about what happened." Neal motioned for Peter to follow as he moved to the sofa. Peter blinked but followed, sitting down across from him.

"You hesitated that day I went to find you. Something you weren't telling me but I was so out of it I didn't really think about it till today." Neal spoke firmly, looking at his friend.

"We already solved the case, Neal. I don't need to hear..." He stopped as Neal held up his hand.

"I stole the manuscript because Max said I had to or... I just couldn't see myself telling Elizabeth what happened. I didn't think she could forgive me or I forgive myself." Neal wrung his hands in his lap nervously, looking up after a moment to see Peter smiling if only in a big brotherly sort of way.

"I knew that. Jones told me. We left that detail out when Hughes asked because there were no fingerprints to implicate you at the scene. Apparently you did good for once and Hartwell didn't expect that when he tried to put blame on you. He has a longer record than you do so that helped as well." He winked at the con, patting him on the shoulder. Neal just blinked at him, his face a bit less pale.

"Were you worried about this that whole time? I'm sorry. I should have said something sooner but I didn't think it was necessary. I knew you didn't run. Derek admitted he screwed with your anklet. He was the inside man now that Fowler is gone." Peter frowned slightly at the thought, rubbing at his chin and sighing. He heard a cough from Neal and looked up.

"I got the impression Jones was going to say something before you nudged him in the ambulance. I was too far gone to ask what but I was curious what he would have said." Neal's voice was pointed and a little tense. Peter looked at him with a narrow glance as if trying to figure out what was going on.

"What do you mean? Jones said he discovered Hartwell's past..." Peter looked at Neal without blinking. When he didn't say anything else, Neal stood and paced a bit then turned back.

"Mozzie told me about the plane, Peter. Hartwell knew." Neal's voice was firm now, angry. Peter looked up at him with a wide eyed glance before he finally shrugged and stood beside him.

"Mozz knows everything... I should have guessed." Peter looked a bit unhappy if not guilty.

"I didn't mean to withhold anything from you, Neal. I just thought... after the other day when you reacted to the plane... I didn't want to see you like that again so I didn't mention it and I made sure Jones didn't. I'm sorry I didn't trust you more." Peter held out his hand, Neal looking at him with a relieved look before taking it.

They were quiet a moment before there was a knock on the door and June poked her head in.

"Oh... I'm sorry did I interrupt something?"

Both men shook their heads, June moving aside and opening the door as Mozzie came in. He saw the look on Peter and Neal's faces and knew what had happened.

"Maybe I should come back..." Mozzie looked about to run when Peter waved a hand for him to come in. June and he exchanged a glance before Mozz walked back reluctantly inside. June smiled slightly before closing the door again.

"Mozz..." Peter started but stopped, a grin on his face despite everything. The little guy smiled back nervously, shaking his head.

"Whatever it is, I didn't do it and you can't prove it!"

Neal and Peter both blinked, suddenly breaking into a tension easing laugh. Mozz looked at them as if they were crazy. Neal shook his head as he stopped laughing and sighed.

"It's ok Mozz. We... we've unburdened ourselves. Isn't that right, Peter?"

Peter nodded, his brown eyes glittering as he pushed his hands into his jacket pockets.

"Yup... sounds about right. So... who's up for dinner. I'm sure El wouldn't mind setting another seat." Peter was looking at Mozz who was blinking back at Neal as if he was in the midst of the greatest enigma.

"Was I just invited to dinner by the Suit? I'm dreaming... right? This is another of my weird lucid dreams."

Neal shook his head.

"No, he really DID invite you Mozz. In fact... he's on the phone right now calling El." Neal grinned as he glanced over, Peter having shuffled off to the corner to call El and make arrangements.

"I invited Mozz; is that ok? Oh... Sounds good. Love you, honey." He hung up his cell, realizing he was being watched.

"El said we're having rotisserie chicken from a new place she's thinking about using for some of her events. You like that, Mozz?"

Mozz nodded vaguely, still looking as if he were dreaming. Peter looked between the both of them, walking to the door.

"Shall we?" Peter opened up the door, stepping through, Neal following with Mozzie behind them, muttering softly.

"Why would the Suit invite ME to dinner? Feels like a set up..." His voice was a low mutter and just audible, Neal turning to glance back at his friend as they walked down the stairs. He felt a hand on his shoulder, turning his attention to Peter.

"Is he going to be ok? Should I worry about having invited him?" Peter actually sounded a bit concerned, Neal shaking his head and smiling.

"No, he's good. He doesn't get invited out that much. I think he was just uhm... what's the word... touched?" Neal shrugged as they reached the bottom and started towards the door. Peter nodded, a slight grin on his face.

"_Touched_ is definitely accurate at the moment."

**(The End)**

_**Author note:**_

_**Not sure why, but I couldn't figure out how to end this so that's why this chapter is the longest. It just kept going and going and finally I got it to resolve itself. Sorry for the delay!**_


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